


Over and Over

by Nanoclouds



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 14:14:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5378207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanoclouds/pseuds/Nanoclouds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘And in a second, Scout’s life had disintegrated. Every little aspiration, dream, hope had all been based around him, but now he was gone, leaving Scout to face the world alone. Scout let out another sob.’</p><p>Something at respawn malfunctioned, leaving Scout's lover unable to respawn ever again.</p><p>[warning for major character death, but it's never described in detail]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> At this point, Scout's lover is currently unnamed so that I can evaluate general opinion before I choose who it is. I'm currently considering it being Sniper, which will remain unless I get request to change it, therefore the tag may change.

The darkness choked Scout, but he made no attempt to move from his hiding spot as he shuddered under the cloudless sky. They would find him eventually, he knew that much, but he couldn't bring himself to face them. Not yet.

Hollowness that had overtaken Scout as he lay there was being flooded with silence; screaming and echoing inside of his head. Scout hung his head and wished he had the energy to let out more than a silent sob, he wished he could scream and shout and fight until the silence was beaten out of him. He wanted to be strong when all he could comprehend was weak and echoed, his every breath like a candle flinching away from the darkness as it finally burnt out.

He was pathetic.

Lay there, his fear of the silence was ramped up to match his fear of getting caught. At least, if he was caught, they could scream at him and beat him and blame everything on him, and hell knows he'd be glad for it. He was already bloodstained, but not enough of the blood was his own. God, he'd do anything to switch the blood staining his shirt to be all Scout's own blood, and not his. He'd do anything to have ran a little quicker, shouted a little louder... Suddenly everything his lover had ever loved about him was a trap, a hideous curling one which waited until he needed them the most to only prove not to be enough. To prove that Scout wasn't enough - or maybe was too much. Way too much. But at least this stuff, his team, his friends who, without a doubt, hated him now, could bring him pain and screaming and anger. Anger was easy to cope with, Scout had spent enough time with anger to understand that. But silence was different. Silence would drag him down into the darkness, muffled, number than he already was until everything was a heavy static sapping away the brightness in his eyes, the brightness he had saved for him.

 

There was a footstep in the leaves, and Scout flinched further into his hiding place, curling up, making himself as small as possible. A muffled shout called out his name, but the Pyro was too far away to be a worry to him. The first shout was paralleled by another one, this time from Spy, who was getting close to where Scout was hidden. He wanted to tell him to go away, scream in his face, demand that he found some way to bring his lover back, and then run as far as he could, but that part of him felt broken now, defeated. It seemed that the talkative, loud part of him had died alongside his lover, and Scout could only wish that he'd died with them. His screams and shouts and the way he fought against his team restraining him as they dragged him away from battle had been that part of him dying, leaving behind the empty shell he was now, numb.

 

"Scout?" A voice asked softly; not a call like before, but a question, a test to see if he'd respond, perhaps, one which was aware of his location. Scout stayed silent, both unwilling and unable to respond. Crouching down beside Scout, Medic's face was illuminated suddenly as he pulled out a small vial of luminous liquid, a makeshift light source, and Scout flinched away from the light.

"Gott, Scout, you're shaking," the German muttered as he pulled off his coat, "let me help you, bitte, you don't have to see anyone else." The Medic tried to coax Scout towards his outstretched arms. Numbness having overridden his senses, Scout didn't try and resist Medic's arms, allowing him to drape his coat round his shoulders, barely even aware of his own shivering. As Medic helped him to his feet, Scout's legs gave way, collapsing into his arms, fresh tears stinging at his eyes as new emotions flooded back to him.


	2. Chapter 2

It had taken a lot of patience and coaxing on Medic’s part, but eventually Scout had allowed himself to be half led, half carried back to the medbay. Scout had stopped crying at some point - he couldn’t even remember when - and now sat, blank eyes towards the wall as Medic sat next to him on the hospital-style bed, mirroring his silence. Beneath the blankness in his eyes, colour exploded. Scenes replaying in high-contrast, hyper-definition, the images screaming for his willingly given attention. Each time the scene repeated in his head, Scout noticed another way that he could have saved him. If he’d have called out to him louder, if he’d have tried to shoot first. Maybe, if when they had talked about their future together, if Scout had asked him to make that future now. On their pay, they could have lived somewhere comfortable, they could have-. Scout cut off his own chain of thought as he started to shake, hands balling into fists as the threat of tears resurfaced and his breath quickened.

“Scout?” Medic called out to him, shattering the silence. At the sound of his name, Scout’s resolve broke. Shuddering, a sob wracked through him and he collapsed forwards into Medic’s outstretched arms, allowing him to hold Scout as he sobbed into his chest until his breathing grew steady and his tears slowed.

Scout had no idea how long he sat had there, curled up in the Medic’s lap, but most of the tears had dried before he even dared to move again. Tilting his head up to look at Medic, he wondered why Medic didn’t hate him. Surely it should have been Scout dying there instead of the Sniper? He wouldn’t have blamed him if they’d have left him out there to freeze to death, he’d have thanked them, even. But instead he was here, still wrapped in the doctor’s coat as Medic silently comforted him. It was difficult to read his emotions. The receding redness around the Medic’s eyes suggested that he had been crying before, but he showed no other signs of it. He should hate him. Sure, Medic and Sniper weren’t exactly the closest of the group, but they had been friends nonetheless, and Scout had taken Sniper away from everyone. Scout rested his head back down against Medic.

“It should have been me.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but Medic heard it anyway and sat back from Scout a little.

“Nein, none of this is your fault,” He spoke slowly, constructing his sentences as if afraid that his words would harm Scout, “We couldn’t have known this was going to happen.” He rubbed circles on Scout’s back reassuringly. “You need rest, though. You’ve had a long day.”

 

A twinge of fear shot through Scout and he burst into speach. “I can’t go back there, I can’t - not without him, not yet.” Scout realised he could no longer bring himself to say Sniper’s name out loud, as if saying it would mean losing him all over again.

Medic nodded. “You can stay in the medbay tonight, everything is already set up.” He gently maneuvered away from Scout, moving over to lock up his tool cabinets, before stopping at the door and turning back to look at the Scout.

“Remember, Scout, you don’t have to go through this alone.” He smiled gently before leaving Scout alone, flicking the main lights off as he left.

Scout waited until his footsteps had fully retreated down the corridor before lying down and switching the bedside lamp off. Staring up at the darkened ceiling, the tears had exhausted him past constructive thought, and once again, Scout felt nothing. His clothes were still crisp with blood, but it hardly mattered now. Nothing really mattered without Sniper. _He didn’t matter without Sniper_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The chapters are being kept short in the hopes that I can update it more frequently

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've ever uploaded to AO3, so please tell me if I got any of the formatting wrong or anything! 
> 
> Aside from that, this fic will hopefully continue to walk Scout through the mourning process and the effects of which, so his mental state will be reflected in the style and tone of writing


End file.
